


That's What I Want

by carolinablu85



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Angst, Cuddling and Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stupid Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinablu85/pseuds/carolinablu85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke has never had to worry about paying for anything. Noah has never been more worried in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What I Want

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a bday present for an LJ friend last year; we always talked about how class/money conflict would've been such an interesting story for the guys.

“Noah!” Luke stared, shock cementing his feet to the sidewalk. “What are you-?”

“Just shut up,” Noah repeated with a growl. It wasn’t directed at him, but Luke still wanted to take a step back. If he could move, that is. No, Noah was focused on the guy he had shoved hard into the wall, one arm pressed against the guy’s throat, the other hand twisted into the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“It was just a joke, man,” the guy protested, trying to push Noah away.

Noah didn’t move. “It wasn’t very funny.” He tightened his grip. “Is anyone here laughing?”

“Noah...” Luke tried again, voice soft, his feet still rooted. “Noah, come on.” 

“You know    
_nothing_   
 about me, got it?” Noah insisted, all his focus on staring the guy down. Sometimes Luke forgot how tall Noah was. This wasn’t one of those times. It was almost like he had hulked out, somehow towering over a person that was really only an inch or two shorter. 

“Noah,” Luke spoke sharper this time, raising his voice. “Stop.”

Noah blinked once, twice, turning his head enough to catch Luke’s gaze. Luke almost stepped back again, because the look on his face... it looked like breaking. It looked like too much. It didn’t look like Noah.

When had it gotten to this?

Luke opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Noah’s face shuttered closed again. He turned back to the asshole that had started this mess, pulling him from the wall and pushing him away, almost to the ground. “You owe my boyfriend an apology,” he half-growled again.

Before the jerk- or Luke- could respond in any way, Noah turned and stalked off, disappearing around the corner. All Luke could do was stand there, still staring, eyes and mouth open wide. He didn’t even care when the guy scrambled on his feet, going in the opposite direction. It was the least of his problems.

 _What the fuck just happened?_

  
***

  
 _Two months earlier..._

“I don’t... I don’t understand,” Noah said quietly, looking back and forth between them. His brain had been listening, sure, even recognized the words, but he couldn’t figure out what they were supposed to mean. 

The tuition advisor regarded him with a strange combination of pity and impatience. “We received word from someone in the US Military Department of Veterans Affairs. Because you father is actually alive, they can no longer offer those benefits given to next of kin. His military income has to go back to him.”

Noah nodded blankly. “My financial aid...”

“Has just been cut dramatically,” the man finished for him. “The past semesters are covered and in the books, but this current one is going to need to be paid for.”

He just nodded again, staring straight ahead. What else could he do?

“Can they really do that?” Professor Dunn asked, her hand on Noah’s shoulder. She pretty much hadn’t moved it from there since Noah had been called to the Registrar’s office after her class. “Is there any way to, I don’t know, petition for the money? The man’s in jail, he’s not using it.”

Mr. Hawthorne let out a slow breath, telling Noah everything right there. “You can try. It can’t hurt. But legally, it’s his money. He can do what he wants with it.” Another sigh, another shuffle of papers, as though he didn’t really have time for this. Or really care.

Why should he? It wasn’t his life starting to crumble. Noah clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. 

Maybe he did have a shred of empathy in him though, because Hawthorne took a look at Noah and softened. A little. “There are things you can do, Mr. Mayer. My secretary has forms you can fill out, applications for more aid, scholarships, grants... It could work out.”

Noah just nodded again. He didn’t know what sounded more skeptical- the word ‘could’ or the tone the man had used. “O-okay. Thank you.”   
_Thank you? Really?_

Professor Dunn followed him out of the office, spoke quickly to the secretary, and came back to him with a stack of papers. “Could you talk to your father?” she asked tentatively, handing the forms over.

He shrugged. “I doubt it. He wasn’t exactly, um, happy with me last time we spoke.” When he had sent the Colonel back to prison. When his father had all but disowned him (again).    
_You keep getting disowned by a parent, at some point it’s bound to stick, right?_

He must’ve been in his head too long, because all of a sudden Professor Dunn was touching his arm again, eyeing him with way too much concern for his liking. “Noah, kid, is there someone we can call for you? Do you want or need some-”

“No,” he shook himself free, holding the stack of papers tight enough to paper-cut his fingers. “No. It’s okay.”

“Noah...” she shook her head, trying to reach for him again. He moved away again. She held up her hand up, backing off, understanding. “Okay. Just... just do something for me, okay? Call someone. Don’t just go home and let this overwhelm you. Can you do that for me?”

He probably nodded, he wasn’t really sure. But at least she stepped away from him, gave him some space. He desperately needed that right now. Anything within three feet of him would just add to the crushing weight that was suddenly pressing into his chest. 

He stumbled his way out of the Registrar office, down the steps, out onto the quad. He managed to make it to a bench and drop onto it, staring at the papers in his hands. Scholarship and grant applications, military benefit clauses, legal documents he had no hope of understanding. 

Call someone, Professor Dunn had said. He fumbled for his phone, but even as his thumb slid to speed dial #2... he stopped.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

 _Hey Luke, it’s me, your emotionally-stunted boyfriend. You know how every time we’re finally together and strong and things are going well, I find a way to let my dad ruin your life and mine? Well, it’s about that time again. Also, know how I’ll never be able to support or provide for you like you could for me? Yep, that’s pretty much official now. At this rate I’ll be living in a cardboard box outside your grandmother’s mansion by the time I graduate._

Well, if  _I graduate._

He stared at his phone. A part of him was so sick and tired of being the fuckup. It seemed like every time he and Luke were in a good place, Noah found a way to ruin it. And really, did  _anyone_  in this town want to hear about the latest issue in the Mayer family? It was reaching Shakespearean lengths of annoying tragedy at this point.

“Fuck,” he whispered. For a second he wanted to take the phone, throw it across the quad. Or imagine it was his father’s skull and crush it in his grip. Why did this have to happen? Why did this always have to happen?

He let himself wallow for a few more minutes before taking a deep breath. Two deep breaths. Maybe three. As long as it took to shove all this aside. He had to have a plan, he had to do something. Maybe he could fix this. It’d be about time, right? That he actually took care of his own problems and didn’t leave them for someone else to clean up?

He couldn’t do that anymore.

With difficulty, he put the phone back in his pocket. Giving himself a mental shake, he turned his focus back to the stack of forms in his hands, looking them over. He had an hour before he has to be at Java ( _might as well ask for as many extra shifts as I can, I guess_ ); that should be enough time to get at least half of these done. He could do this.

He could handle this.

On his own.

  
***

  
Luke could be a little dense at times, Noah knew that. Most of the time it was something he loved, that Luke could get so wrapped up in something that it just consumed him. Sometimes it frustrated him, that Luke couldn’t always see how his actions had consequences beyond whatever he was focused on.

But this was the first time Noah had used it to his advantage.

He could count on the Snyders for many, many things... and drama was, unfortunately, one of them. Holden had been back from “the dead” for a few weeks, and the ensuing arguments and tension between him, Lily, and Damian had Luke pretty distracted. 

Noah hated it, and was relieved at the same time. A lot of Luke’s time, when not at Grimaldi Shipping, was spent at either the farm or the mansion, brokering peace treaties and awkward family dinners. A couple of nights a week he would come home late, fall into bed, and wake up early the next morning for work... with no idea that Noah was doing the exact same thing. Every night.

Noah wasn’t sure he had ever felt this exhausted before. He had picked up every extra shift possible at Java, had spent the last three nights hunched over all those forms, filling out every single one as precisely as he could. He couldn’t mess these up. Anything, a wrong number, a misspelled word, could mean the difference between him being in school and him being... a failure.

He shook his head, trying to shove those thoughts away again. No, he could handle this. He was just tired, that’s why he wasn’t able to ignore all those stupid doubts that never seemed to go away. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds before turning back to the stack of books and DVDs in front of him. The only good thing that had happened to him since this bomb dropped was that Professor Dunn was able to get him a work-study job on campus. Now, anytime he wasn’t in class or at Java, he was in the film department’s media library, filing away. It was long, tedious work that left his eyes blurry and neck sore, but it was  _paying_  work. Something he couldn’t pass up right now. 

Noah was pretty sure that if he kept this up for three more months, he could cover the semester’s tuition. 

Though it was a pretty big ‘if.’

Another sigh, another roll of his shoulders, and he attacked the next stack of DVDs to file. On the table next to him was an open textbook- he had a test next week in his  _Art Composition on Screen_  class that he still needed to study for- and the largest cup of coffee Java could produce. His lunch. He alternated between the three- file DVDs, read a page, take a sip of coffee. Rinse, repeat.

Three months of this.

He had to do it.

  
***

  
There was something wrong with his boyfriend.

At least, Luke was pretty sure there was. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but there was something. Of course, he could barely pinpoint his boyfriend’s  _location_  anymore, so he was pretty confident that wasn’t his fault. 

If he had to hazard a guess, he’d say it’d been over a month of this, maybe even two. Coming home to either an empty apartment or Noah passed out on the couch, in bed, at the kitchen table, one time almost in the shower. Waking up to an empty bed. Seriously, had he done something to piss Noah off? Why was Noah avoiding him?

He tried to ignore that feeling as best he could, and with the way his parents and Damian were clamoring for attention around Oakdale, it admittedly wasn’t hard to do. But after awhile, Noah’s excuses got flimsier and flimsier. And flimsier.

And it was annoying. They lived together, for God’s sake. It was kinda expected that they actually hang out in the same room at some point, right?

He tried to bring it up one night, getting home after a tense dinner at his mother’s house to find Noah hunched over at the kitchen table, staring blearily at a textbook. Had he been studying too much lately? Is that what was taking all of Noah’s time away from him?

He made his way over to his boyfriend, plopping down in the seat next to him. The fact that Noah didn’t even react to his presence might have annoyed him a little bit. “Hey,” he reached out, skimming his hand over the top of Noah’s head. “I think you might need a study break, babe.”

Noah grunted a little, finally lifting his eyes enough to see Luke there. “Can’t. Test on Monday.”

“It’s Wednesday,” Luke grinned a little, rolling his eyes at Noah’s ever-present goody-two-shoeness. “I think you have some time.”

“I don’t,” Noah said shortly, rubbing at his eyes. “This is the first chance I’ve had to read the chapter. Please, Luke, give me like fifteen more minutes here, okay?”

Luke eyed him, worry gnawing at his brain slightly. Noah looked tired. Really tired. “If I give you fifteen now, will you promise to come straight to bed and get a good night’s sleep?” At Noah’s shrug, he narrowed his eyes. “What time do you have to get up tomorrow morning?”

“Six,” came another grunt. “Opening at Java.”

Luke almost- almost- tightened his grip on Noah’s hair. Because seriously. Seriously? “This is the third time you’ve opened in like five days.”

Noah blinked up at him, frowning, as though surprised Luke would notice that. “I’m picking up a few extra shifts,” he answers without answering.

Luke shook his head, but managed to keep his hand gentle, sliding it down to Noah’s shoulder. “Does anybody else work in that coffeeshop besides you?”

He meant it as a joke, but he could feel the muscles under his hand tense. “I need the extra hours,” he mumbled, focusing back on the book in front of him.

Luke bit his lip, fighting the urge to shiver at the strange tension in the air. What the hell? “You know what? I was thinking...” he slid his chair a few inches closer. “We should do something stupid this weekend. Just us. Get away for awhile.” He pressed his lips to the side of Noah’s head closest to him, kissing his hair. “What do you say?”

For a second, maybe more, he felt Noah close his eyes, lean into the kiss. But then he was pulling away too abruptly. “I can’t right now, Luke.” To his credit, he did hasten to add, “I’m sorry. Maybe when things calm down some?”

Feeling chastened for some reason, Luke sat back, letting his hand fall from Noah’s shoulder. “Come on, Noah, just one weekend. We could both use it, you know that’s true.” Taking a chance, he flipped Noah’s book shut and pulled it out of reach. “One weekend, please?” he drew out the last word, waggling his eyebrows, doing the pouty whiny thing he knew was annoying but usually made Noah smile.

Usually. “Luke,” Noah closed his eyes briefly, like he was gathering his strength. “I can’t right now. I have to work this weekend.”

Luke shrugged, wanting to focus on plans for their weekend getaway, figuring out the best place to go, where they could stay. “So blow it off. It’s just Java, it’s not like it’s that big a deal.” They could pack some of Emma’s food for the road, and maybe take one of his mom’s cars, since it was more comfortable than Noah’s-

Noah was no longer at the table. “I can’t just ‘blow it off,’ Luke! It’s my job.” He snatched the textbook back off the table, walked past Luke into their living room, and dropped onto the couch, opening the book back up with what sounded like a defeated sigh. 

Luke could only spin around in his chair, surprised. “Noah-”

“It may not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me. It’s my  _job,_ ” he repeated. 

Luke should’ve seen his hands shaking and the circles under his eyes, but at this point he felt like he was getting lectured. And that made him defensive. “Yeah, and you’re always there! They can spare you for one weekend, Noah. It’s not like it’s the end of the world if you slack off just a little.”

He saw Noah’s jaw tighten. “It’s important to me, okay?”

“What, being at Java is more important to you than spending time with me?” Luke couldn’t help but snap. “Come on, babe, how about just one day off?”

He heard Noah’s quiet, “I cant,” but barreled on anyway.

“You don’t have to make any arrangements either, I’ll handle it. Maybe go to Chicago for the day, or Grandmother’s jet can take us somewhere. I can talk to my mom about setting up dinner at a nice restaurant, she’d probably even spring for the bill if I ask nicely enough, and-”

“Luke.” Somehow, Noah was standing again. How did he keep moving without Luke noticing first? “ _I can’t._  I have responsibilities. I can’t just, just, slack off like you can. It may not be a big deal to you, but it is to me. It’s my job. I don’t have ‘Grandmother’ or ‘mom’ to fall back on.” The blue of his eyes did wonders for his glaring capabilities, Luke distantly thought. “I just have me.”

And with that he tossed the book to the side, not even bothering to put it away neatly in his schoolbag like a normal Noah Mayer would, and went into the bedroom. Without Luke.

Luke sat back in his chair, the breath rushing out of him as his back connected with the kitchen table. It was rare that he didn’t get the last word in a fight ( _when had that become a fight?_ ), and he especially hated it now. Because he hadn’t gotten the chance to remind Noah that he did have Lucinda and Lily to fall back on. They were his family too.

When was he ever going to get that through to Noah?

  
***

  
They never did talk about the not-really-a-fight. A week or two passed, and they both just pretended it never happened. Luke didn’t get his weekend away, and the circles under Noah’s eyes got darker and scarier. Luke was all for responsibility and all that and whatever, but wasn’t there such a thing as a limit?

They were walking through Old Town after a quick lunch, so Noah could get back to some library for whatever reason, when they crossed paths with the guy. Trey, one of the few leftover assholes from Kevin and Mark’s election antics, snorted and glared at their clasped hands as they walked past. 

“Seriously Trey? Grow up or shut up,” Luke snapped, not in the mood for bigotry at the moment. Or ever. Noah squeezed his hand to let it go, but it was too late.

“Really, Snyder? Telling me to grow up? You’re the one running around town like you’re a goddamn prince of Oakdale or something.” Trey followed them down the path when Noah determinedly pulled Luke along. “Little rich boy with a whole town as your playground, right?”

“Luke,” Noah said quietly, warning.  _Let it go._  And Luke tried.

“And then thinking you’re cool, slumming it with the boyfriend here. Wonder if he’s only with you for your money, Snyder, did that thought ever cross your-”

And it happened faster than Luke had any hope of processing.

  
***

  
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, after Trey had run off in one direction and Noah in the other. But then his feet finally decided to work, and decided to go after Noah. Thank God. At least one part of his body was thinking properly, right?

He wasn’t even sure how his feet knew to go to this particular building, but lucky for him they did. The media library was a tiny, dark, dingy building off to the side of campus, and if there was any library Noah would be anxious to go to, it would be this one.

His suspicions (and maybe fears) were confirmed when he stepped inside and almost immediately collided with a woman. “Luke! Thank every lord in existence,” she grabbed his arm.

The crazy bright clothing and Brooklyn accent clued his brain in to who this was. “Professor Dunn?” One of Noah’s favorite teachers.

“He just walked in and headed into the back room,” she started leading him in that direction. “I was literally just about to say ‘screw faculty regulations’ and call you. He looks awful, Luke, is he still not getting any sleep? Did something else happen?”

“Still?” he repeated. “Something else? What?” it spilled out of his mouth helplessly.

Professor Dunn studied him for a minute, eyes sad. “I think,” she finally spoke, words slow and hesitant, maybe even a little resigned. “You and I should talk before you go back there.”

  
***

  
He found Noah sitting on the ground in front of a large, DVD-and-book-covered table. Elbows resting on bent knees, head hung down, he had his hands clasped over his head. For a second, he reminded Luke of an airplane passenger bracing for impact. For a crash. 

His first instinct was to step forward and crouch down in front of his boyfriend, pull those hands away and make Noah look at him. But after two steps forward, a better idea came to mind. Silently, he walked around Noah to sit behind him, stretching his legs out on either side of him, scooting forward till his chest just barely touched Noah’s back.

Noah didn’t lean back or relax, but he didn’t tense up or move away either. Part of Luke wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually asleep. Cautiously, he put his hands on Noah’s shoulders, rubbing gently. “So,” he murmured then, not sure if he was keeping quiet because it was a library or because it was Noah. “I get a new reason to hate the Colonel, huh?”

His shoulders shook for a fraction of a second. “What-?”

Luke let out a little sigh, letting go of one of Noah’s shoulders so he could slide it forward and wrap an arm around Noah’s chest instead. Not pulling him back, not moving him, just touching. “Professor Dunn told me. Told me everything she knew, I pieced together the rest.” He perched his chin on Noah’s shoulder. “Baby, why didn’t you just tell me?”

He could just barely see Noah squeeze his eyes shut. “I couldn’t,” he choked out. “Can’t keep letting you fix my problems.”

“No,” Luke said firmly, cutting him off. He took his other arm and wrapped it around Noah’s waist and stomach. “No. Not ‘your’ problems. How would you feel if I kept something like this from you?”

He felt it, muscle by muscle, as Noah started to relax in his arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he said softly, subtly pulling Noah back towards him. “You know, along with telling me when big important life stuff happens, you should also tell me when I’m being a brat.”

There was a quiet sound that almost sounds like a laugh, and Noah let himself be pulled. “I like that you’re a brat,” he mumbled, settling back against Luke’s chest, head resting at the point between Luke’s neck and shoulder.

Luke let that go, deciding now was not the time to point out that hey- Noah could’ve denied he was a brat at all, but whatever. Instead, he ran his hand slowly back and forth across Noah’s chest and collarbone, almost petting. “Did you try talking to him?”

Noah let out a shakier breath, moved his head just enough to nod once. “He told me to go to hell.”

For a long moment, Luke’s brain warred between reacting in pure, seething anger and reacting in comfort. Then he made the right decision, wrapping his arms even tighter around his boyfriend’s body, holding him as close as he could. “Well, fuck him. You’re going to graduate without him, and grow up and be a man without him. He loses.”

Noah brought one hand up to clasp with Luke’s at his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

Luke shook his head, briefly dropping a kiss to his forehead. “If you find some way to make this your fault, I will pinch you.” Another kiss. “The only thing you did wrong was not tell me from the start. I mean, my God Noah, you’ve been doing two jobs and all your classes? You’re going to wear yourself out.”

He shrugged, though Luke smiled as Noah’s body turned in to curl around him a little more. “I’m just... I was sick of it, Luke. And humiliated. All I do is bring more and more trouble to-”

“No,” he said again, even more insistent. “I’m going to say this as many times as it takes- you are  _not_  a burden.  _Ever._  You’re the opposite. You... you keep me from drowning, Noah.” Remembering Trey’s words, he added, “And there’s no way in hell I’m slumming, either.”

“I just, you know,” Noah heaved one of those bone deep sighs Luke absolutely hated hearing. “I want to be able to take care of you. How am I supposed to do that if I can’t even take care of myself?”

He was silent for a second, and then couldn’t stop himself from saying, “God, you’re so stupid sometimes!”

Noah’s head tilted up, eyes wide and confused. “What?”

“Baby, do you know what your problem is?” He was getting into Lucinda Walsh Lecture Mode, he could feel it. Batten down the hatches. “It’s not that you’re ‘poor,’ or gay, or have a horrible father. It’s not that you’re stubborn, or shy, or any of that crap. It’s that you’re stupid sometimes.”

“That’s... not nice,” Noah protested lamely, still shocked.

Luke glared. “Take everything you feel about me and yourself, and apply it to me too, got it? If I have to go find a dictionary and read of what ‘partner’ actually means, I will. We  _share_  this stuff. You take care of me when I need it. I get to take care of you too.” He made sure his hands are gentle around Noah. “I don’t know how many ways I can tell you that I  _like_  taking care of you. Therefore, it’s obvious you’re stupid sometimes.”

Noah laughed, and it was half-loving and half-apologetic. And maybe a third-confused too, because Noah really could be stupid sometimes. But then the laugh was followed by a jaw-cracking yawn. 

“Okay,” Luke tightened his hold again. “We’re going to have to deal with this ‘two jobs’ shit, because you can’t keep doing this. Especially today. You’re coming home with me right now, taking a nap, eating whatever dinner I put in front of you- don’t make that face, I’m getting takeout- taking another nap, and then we’re going to find a way to get you  _one_  job, that doesn’t interfere with classes or normal sleeping patterns. Is that understood?”

At some point during that speech, Noah managed to bury his face in Luke’s shoulder. “Yes, Lucinda.”

He smacked him lightly on the back of the head, then kept his hand there to trail through dark almost-curls. “She could help, you know. My mom too. I mean, maybe there’s something you could do at WOAK. That would pay well and look good on your resume.”

“It’s nepotism,” Noah’s protest was muffled into Luke’s shirt. That was an argument he’d used before, Luke remembered.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not nepotism, it’s networking. You use the people you know, make connections, get ahead. God, don’t they teach you anything about Hollywood at this school?” He softened his voice. “Maybe we could talk to Casey’s dad, too. About your dad’s money, the money that should be yours. Maybe there’s something he can do?”

Noah nodded, silent again. For at least a minute. Finally, there was a soft, grateful, “Thank you.” Luke ignored the  _I’m sorry_  he could hear yet again in the words, and focused on the  _I love you_  that was even louder. 

And really, that’s all he needed to hear. That’s all he wanted.


End file.
